15-and-4
Posted by Arachne Jericho on Thursday, February 7th, 2008
Part of The Turing Gyre
For the February 2008 Flash Fiction Carnival, theme is “cowardice”. Science fiction. 750 words.
I once thought S1526 the most beautiful designation bestowed upon any one of the student body. She was of the oldest class in existence, that rank so battle-wearied that only a few members yet remained alive.
I remember her now, standing in the moonlit courtyard, the long, blackened fingers of one hand jerking and creeping delicately, like the legs of a frightened spider, across her naked shoulder. It was newly manufactured, a sybrium-hybrid metal replacement for the one she had lost just before returning from Austria. By itself, it was a hideous chunk of armor and cybernetic wiring; on her, the new shoulder was evidence of the tearing passions of the God-at-war, a perfect ruin pursing against smooth flesh.
Behind the corner of a building, I steadied myself. This was a difficult time for her, readjusting to the silence of the Northern Keepaway after a year spent on the front of the 8th Continental War.
She was already turning her head in my direction.
“Friendly,” I said to break the silence, not wanting to trigger any defensive reflexes she might have.
“Designation?” She sounded flat and matter-of-fact, not at all her usual self.
I told her.
Her face lit suddenly, and she allowed me to approach.
Close by, she was even taller than I had remembered. She towered over me, skin and frame grotesquely repaired in the old ad-hoc manner. She smiled, showing long and sharp teeth, and reached for me.
I hugged her back. Her fingers pressed into my back like pins, and her shoulder plate was rough against my cheek.
She gave me a critical look-over. Perhaps she was searching for scars, because no training at the Academy was complete without at least one near-mortal injury they just barely brought you back over.
“I got my arm sliced open several times,” I said, “right down into the main artery.” I removed my jacket and started rolling back my sleeve, before I stopped, considering.
“Let me see.”
There was silence as she examined my arm.
“Automatic healing seems to be improving,” she said, a little too lightly, before letting me go. “No bones broken?”
I told her about the sybrium treatment. My skeleton was now made of the same stuff as her battle armor, stronger than bone and far less dense.
She whistled, shrill and strange through her teeth, and experimentally lifted me.
“You’re rather light,” she said, bouncing me a bit, “even for your age. So light that you must not be hurt much even if you fall.”
I wished she would stop treating me like a little brother. “I know how to roll into a fall.”
She hugged me again, hard enough to hurt a little, but I didn’t mind. She didn’t say anything else, though, which was strange. We stood together like that for a long time.
“It’s almost over,” I whispered into her ear. “I’ll come of age. My entire class will. We’ll be the new front and you and the others will be our generals.”
She shivered, and I held her harder, but she wouldn’t stop shaking.
“That’s how it’s supposed to be,” I continued, trying to remember how she related that torch-passing milestone to me, the night I cried because she was going to be away. She had called it “15-and-4″, that is, 15 year-olds for the front, and a general class four years older.
“I can’t do it,” she whispered back.
“You’re not scared?” She was well-known for her recklessness, which had earned her so many admirable war-scars.
She took a ragged breath. “I’m scared for you.”
“You’ve never seen me fight,” I said. With cover, I could drop a man from half a mile away. I could drop an entire line of them, even if they were running over rough ground at night.
She released her hold, and gently lifted my face. “You were made for peace, not war.”
That made no sense. I told her so.
She shrugged and said nothing, just looked at me as though she would eat me up with her lantern-ray teeth. Her eyes glittered with tears.
I will always remember that time under the blasted oak tree in the moonlight, just the two of us.
And I will always remember the morning she left us, her leave suddenly ended, eyes tiger-hard again, the chosen one of the God-at-war.
The 8th Continental war ended a few days after she reached the front.
She never returned home.
15-and-4 never passed.
Part of The Turing Gyre
Auria Corteson 07 Feb 2008 at 6:57 pm 1“By itself, it was a hideous chunk of armor and cybernetic wiring; on her, the new shoulder was evidence of the tearing passions of the God-at-war, a perfect ruin pursing against smooth flesh.”
Very nice!
Arachne Jerichoon 07 Feb 2008 at 8:53 pm 2Thanks, Auria!
I admit, sometimes I do get the purple on. :)
Unfocused Meon 11 Feb 2008 at 9:12 pm 3That’s the first hard-core SF I’ve seen as a flash fic piece — nice job mixing the story with enough detail to provide the technical environment.
Arachne Jerichoon 11 Feb 2008 at 9:26 pm 4Thanks, Unfocused!
Sci-fi is difficult to do as flash fiction. There’s a lot of world-building involved in any scifi venture.
Personally I like to write the kind of science fiction for folks who aren’t all sci-fi geek’d out and who do not want to know the details behind how the lantern fish jaw works.
It is similar to writing user documentation that, you know, works for the users….
Kathleen Oxleyon 12 Feb 2008 at 12:38 am 5This was really nice! I admit it took me a bit to get into it. (I’m not usually a fan of SF.) But, after a few paragraphs I got the swing of what was going on and rather enjoyed it!
~Kat
Genevieveon 12 Feb 2008 at 10:53 am 6Wow! I’m not a sci-fi afficianado, so it took just a little time to figure out that I wasn’t any place familiar or with typical human characters. And they both seem very brave and honorable to me, so I wasn’t sure where the cowardice is. That said, I still really like it. You quickly triggered my interest in both characters, since I can see them both vividly thanks to your descriptions. And I’m curious and about their backstories, but the piece is tight enough to stand alone.
Arachne Jerichoon 12 Feb 2008 at 5:56 pm 7Kathleen, thanks! I’m glad you did enjoy it. :) If non-SF people like my SF, I consider my job done. ;)
Genevieve, thanks! The cowardice is a bit unusual here; she thinks she’s a coward for turning away from the front. People don’t get leave in the middle of a war unless there are very special circumstances involved (i.e., major shell shock). He’s too young to really understand what a real war front is, and he’s also too young to understand how frightened she is or the complexity of her thinking right now.
Is she a coward, or is she just sensible? It’s a matter of personal values. Regardless, she decides to go back to the front in the end, because 15-and-4 is too terrible for her to conceive of passing, now that she knows what a war is like. They say that you’re only truly brave if you’re afraid and yet you do it anyways.
It is implied that she was first sent to the front when she was 15 and when he was around 11, because of the nature of 15-and-4; but that is not completely clear. She has spent some time out there, though, because 15-year-old boys don’t cry as easily as they do when they’re a couple years younger.
Hope I didn’t bore you with that explanation… . but that was my thinking as I wrote this. :)
Gwen Mitchellon 12 Feb 2008 at 6:36 pm 8I actually forgot I was reading this as ‘FFC homework’ - that’s how enjoyable it was. Flash is a challenge, and especially in a new world, but you made it look effortless. It was rich and vivid enough that I got a clear picture, and yet, you didn’t have to add a bunch of nonsense words, etc. that would have dragged it down. The writing was clean too. A pleasure.
Arachne Jerichoon 12 Feb 2008 at 6:58 pm 9Thanks, Gwen. I’m glad you enjoyed it!
It only looks effortless. :)
It’s Not Enough to Have a Blog: Advice for Writers Who Wanna Join This Blogging Thing : Spontaneous Derivationon 21 Feb 2008 at 10:22 am 10[...] 15-and-4, scifi flash fiction. [...]
AlannahJoyon 05 Mar 2008 at 5:55 pm 11I’m not sure I see where the “cowardice” theme comes into play here, but that didn’t stop me from enjoying the story.
I’m a mild SF fan (ie, “Twilight Zone” and “Outer Limits” are strong influences on much of my own writing, but that’s as SF as I get). As I continued to read, I tried to get a grasp on the genre of the story and the sexuality of the characters. You dodged me at every turn, creating something original that isn’t quite TZ and that may or may not be sexually charged. I came away from this story being happily confused and satisfied at the same time.
Beautiful work!
Arachne Jerichoon 07 Mar 2008 at 6:24 pm 12Thanks, Alannah!
Happily confused and satisfied?
My work here is done. :)